The First Encounter
by Just a Game of What If
Summary: 5-year old Raoul de Chagny loved the Opera. It's vast hallways and beautiful sets...He would always beg his brother to bring him along. One day, while exploring behind the scenes, the young Viscount gets himself lost, with no way of tracing his steps back. Fluff fic, no slash, just for the cuteness factor of it.


_A/N: Please ignore any and all spelling and grammatical errors, I'm still trying to find myself a beta reader...Well, in the meantime, enjoy this!_

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Raoul had been only 5 when his brother had first brought him to the Paris Opera House. The sheer size of the building had amazed the young Viscount the moment he entered the threshold. His large blue eyes had widened in wonder as he spun around in place, his hands outstretched to the vast ceiling, giggling in amazement.

"Come along baby brother; let us go see the new sets." Philippe said, turning and extending a hand, which Raoul quickly took, following behind his brother with a bright smile. The two boys made their way through the seemingly endless hallways before finally reaching the stage. The young Viscount tore free from his brother, racing ahead and clambering clumsily up the stairs, spinning around once more with a poorly suppressed gasp.

"Philippe, _regardez les _lumières!" He exclaimed, pointing up at the lights with a large smile. Philippe laughed, glancing briefly to where his brother pointed before turning to the manager, their voices fading to soft murmuring. Raoul quickly grew bored with the lights, and turning to sneak backstage. Surprisingly enough, none of the men questioned the presence of the Viscount, working around him to allow the child his free reign.

After wandering for well over an hour, the young Viscount came to a stop. "Philippe?" He called out, his voice quivering with fear. He cleared his throat, cupping his small hands to his mouth and calling out again. "Philippe?" He waited for an answer, and when none came the young boy curled up in a corner and began to weep. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he swiped at them angrily, sniffing before burying his head in his knees.

Raoul wasn't too sure how long he had stayed like that, but the sound of approaching footsteps made him stagger to his feet. '_Viscounts don't cry Raoul. Chin up and put on a smile.'_ Philippe's words echoed in his mind as he hurriedly wiped the last tears from his cheeks. He looked up just as a man dressed in black rounded the corner. The two froze, staring at one another for a long, silent moment.

"P-Philippe, is that you?" Raoul asked shakily, breaking the silence with his hopeful question. The figure didn't respond, save for a simple shake of the head. The young Viscount bit his trembling lip before beginning to wail again. The figure stiffened, before walking over and kneeling in front of the boy, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Hush Viscount...Hush now." He spoke gently, his voice barely above a whisper. Raoul looked up, sniffing softly and wiping his eyes. He looked up at the man in front of him, tilting his head slightly. He reached up one hand to touch the white mask that concealed half of the man's face. A firm, yet cold hand stilled the young boy's and the man tutted quietly. "You wouldn't want to do that Viscount," He warned, standing up and looking around. "Come now; let us find your brother." Raoul nodded quickly, skipping slightly to try and keep up with the man's long strides.

"What's your name monsieur?" He chirped, looking up with bright blue eyes. The man looked down at him and couldn't conceal his smile.

"Erik." He replied simply, pausing to look around, before hurrying down another gap. Raoul blinked, and then darted after him, tugging on his sleeve.

"Monsieur, why do you wear a mask? Are you going to a party?" He asked, reaching up again and hoping on his tip-toes before stumbling slightly. Erik turned and caught him deftly, lifting the toddler to his feet with a small chuckle.

"No, not a party."

"Then why do you wear it?" Raoul pouted, straightening his shirt and huffing. Erik looked down at the boy with a sad smile, shaking his head and parting a section of curtain.

"That, little Viscount, is my little secret. Now, go to your brother." Raoul looked through the gap and spotted Philippe pacing along the edge of the stage. The boy's eyes brightened and he raced forward, barrelling into his brother and gibbering excitedly. The elder de Chagny boy looked down at his brother before kneeling down and pulling him into a fierce hug.

"Oh Raoul, don't you dare run off again like that! You could have gotten hurt!" He exclaimed, holding his younger brother out at arm's length and looking him over. The young Viscount giggled, shaking his head.

"I wouldn't have gotten hurt! Erik wouldn't let it happen!" Philippe froze, his eyes narrowing.

"Erik? Who's Erik?" Raoul blinked, frowning slightly and turning to point at the curtains.

"He's right..." The boy trailed off, frowning when he realized that Erik hadn't followed him out. Philippe looked over at the curtains, and then laughed gently.

"What am I going to do with you Raoul? You're imagination will be the death of you." He said, picking up his younger brother and stepping off the stage. Raoul looked back at the curtains, resting his chin on his brother's shoulder. He blinked, his eyes widening when he spotted the flash of a cloak and the glint of a white mask.

"There! There he is!" The boy squeaked, bouncing in his brother's arms. Philippe didn't turn, but chuckled quietly, still muttering about his brother's wile imagination.

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_A/N: Well then...That could have gone worse! I got bored and decided that Baby Raoul with be fun to write! That and I wanted to make Erik seem like some freaky skeleton man...Anyways, forgive any spelling/grammar errors cause I'm still waiting for a beta-reader to come knocking at my door *hint hint*. I may or may not start a multiple chapter thingy eventually...Maybe. _


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